


Memories are Coming

by sunshineflying



Series: A Song of Trash and Fire [16]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brendol Hux is a Jerk, Flashbacks, Fluff, Found Family, Happy Hux Happy Life, M/M, Nostalgia, OG The Sims gaming, Phasma is trouble even in middle school, Poe gets food delivery boxes and Hux is shockingly non-judgmental, gratuitous 00's references, lots of references to A Song of Trash and Fire, memories are painful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 07:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: Three glimpses into Hux's life and memories in the universe of A Song of Trash and Fire.First, a look at Hux's relationship with his mother and the relationship they shared.In contrast, part two jumps to Hux taking Poe to visit his mother's grave for the first time.Finally, Poe uncovers a pile of old Hux family photos as they're moving into their new home. It unearths a lot of memories Hux had kept burrowed deep away, leaving him stuck with facing them for the sake of Poe, or pushing away everything good once more.





	Memories are Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Some ficlets I've been sitting on for a while -- I decided to pile them all up together to give a glimpse at Hux's past and his future, and how much he's grown. I hope you enjoy!

**Part I: June 2001**

As soon as the door to the garage closed with a bang, Hux was racing downstairs excitedly. He was eleven, and he and his mother had been waiting for days for his dad to leave on his next business trip. It was the dead of summer, and he was bored out of his mind. His father told him to read, or study, or try to get ahead on school for the next year, but he was only a kid. He wanted to have _fun_. All the other kids got to play all summer.

“Mom!”

Hux shouted excitedly as he raced through the house, stocking footed and slipping on the hardwood floors.

He rushed down the hallway towards where his parents’ room was, and he was shocked to see his mom not smiling like she usually did. She looked a bit pale, and was walking out of the bathroom dabbing a tissue at her mouth. He saw no marks, no blood — it was like she was sick.

“Mom?”

Right away, his mother’s concerned expression morphed into a smile. “Hi sweetheart,” she said. In an instant, she tossed the tissue in the trash can and put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Dad finally left for his trip!”

She led him down the hallway and looked around, double-checking that her son was correct. This was new; usually Brendol at least gave her a half-hearted goodbye. This time, she’d gotten nothing. It broke her heart a little, the way they were drifting apart.

“Yes, he did.”

But their excitement was short lived. “Elizabeth?”

Brendol peeked his head back in through the garage door.

“Yes?” she responded.

“Hand me my Rolex, would you? Over there, by the sink?”

She walked over to retrieve his watch from the kitchen, and Hux stood by watching his dad with a hardened gaze. The sooner he left, the sooner he and his mother could actually enjoy themselves. Elizabeth gave her husband his watch, and he left without so much as a thank you or a goodbye to either of them.

Neither Elizabeth nor Hux spoke as they watched out the front windows, making sure his car drove away before they spoke again.

“Why doesn’t he like me?” Hux asked after a moment.

Elizabeth spun around, looking so saddened by her son’s question. “Oh, Billy dear,” she cooed, using the nickname of his middle name like she knew her son preferred.

She walked to him, her arms wrapping protectively around his shoulders. He was so tall now, even at only eleven years old. He rested his head on her shoulder and held onto her, waiting for the answer. “Your father isn’t very good at showing affection, that’s all. He cares so much for you.”

Hux wasn’t a child anymore, though, and he knew she was only saying what she knew she had to say. They were both well aware that Brendol didn’t care about either of them; Elizabeth was his trophy wife and Armitage would carry on the family name. 

But they had each other. Hux knew that as long as he had his mother, he’d be alright.

“Well, now that he’s gone, what would you like to do first?” she asked, leaning back to smile at him.

“Can we order pizza? The cheap stuff like we always get at school?” he asked hopefully. “And bake brownies and eat them out of the pan!?”

For months now, Brendol had been scolding Hux when he’d make such childish requests, so he’d stopped asking. But with just his mother in the picture, Hux felt okay doing it. “Sure,” Elizabeth nodded. She patted his hair and said, “Why don’t you go downstairs and play on the computer — no time limit today. I’ll call you up when the pizza’s here. We’ll bake after that.”

“Pepperoni and sausage please,” Hux said excitedly, before rushing downstairs. 

He pressed the button on the computer’s tower, then the monitor, and impatiently waited for it to boot up. As he did, he tossed around the case for the computer game, excited to get to actually play. Hs father didn’t let him use the computer for very long because of some fear of it turning Hux’s brain to rot, or making him violent, or something.

All he wanted to do was create people and houses in The Sims. At least his mother understood that, and would let him spend hours living vicariously through sims. It helped take his mind off of his father, and the odd feeling of things at home lately.

Sure enough, Hux became so engrossed in his video games that he didn’t hear when the pizza man arrived, nor did he hear his mother coming downstairs. 

“Billy.”

He snapped out of it and looked up at his mom, his eyes watering from how long he’d been staring intently at the computer screen. Elizabeth smiled at her son and looked down at the screen curiously. “The Sims again, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah!” Hux said. “I made this guy here, and named him Billy. And he’s got to make enough money to build a house. Right now he’s just got a toilet and a bed in a little cube house,” he explained. “Phasma told me you can use cheats to get money though, so maybe I’ll try that.”

Elizabeth smiled at her son’s excitement and enthusiasm. She knew that if he spent too much time with Brendol, that light would flicker out; she was determined to do her best to not let that happen.

“That sounds fun,” she smiled. “Did you want to invite Phasma over sometime while your father is gone?”

“Yeah,” Hux grinned. “Tomorrow?”

“We can call her tonight and see,” his mother agreed. “For now, let’s eat! Save your game, let’s go.”

He paused and saved the game, and then followed his mother to the family room. Together they sat down on the floor, Hux briefly noticing that it took his mom a few moments to sit and lean against the sofa. She used to be a dancer — but now her lithe body seemed a little more bony, a little less flexible. She almost looked like she was in pain.

Hux didn’t ask, though, because she’d said she was okay earlier, and she’d never lie to him. When she opened the box of pizza, the smell filled his nose and his closed his eyes, grinning widely. Elizabeth laughed at her son’s reaction and said, “Don’t eat too fast, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“But mom —”

“Your dad is probably on the plane by now. We’re fine,” she reassured him.

Hux trusted his mother’s every word, so he reached out for a slice of pizza and took his time as much as he could. But he was an eleven year old boy who was growing taller each day — he could only eat so slow. Besides, only his father was really tough about taking your time and _eating proper_ and all that — his mom would let him get away with this, just this once.

So, he scarfed down a couple of slices, and then a couple more before he realized that his mom hadn’t taken a single bite. “I’m not going to eat it all,” Hux said to her. “You can eat, too!”

Elizabeth smiled. She looked exhausted. “I’ll eat later, darling. I’m not hungry right now,” she insisted. “How about I have a nap here while you finish eating, and then in a bit, we’ll bake?”

Hux was confused. His mom was always hungry. She loved food as much as he did. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m sure, sweetheart,” Elizabeth nodded. “I’m just tired because I was up late.” Smoothly, she lied, “I helped your father pack.”

She sounded so genuine that Hux had to believe that there was nothing wrong, even if he could sense something was different. “Oh. Okay. When do you want me to wake you up?” he asked.

“When you’re hungry again,” she said, slowly propping herself up to climb onto the couch. She smiled reassuringly at Hux and watched as he continued to eat. 

All the things Brendol would have scolded him for, Elizabeth let him get away with: eating with pizza sauce left on his cheek, wiping the grease from the pizza on his jeans… all of it. Hux was a _child_. He should be able to act like one for much longer than Brendol was allowing him.

She slept as Hux played more of The Sims; he caved and put in the _motherlode_ cheat almost immediately when he got back to playing. He was sick of the red and orange moodlets and besides, who didn’t step out into the world with at least a _little_ money to their name, right? More than the game had afforded his sim, at least.

Hux fell into such a trance as he played that he didn’t notice the hours passing. At one point, he was sure his mother would wake from her nap before he ever finished playing his game — but she didn’t. 

So, five hours after she’d fallen asleep, Hux went over to wake her up. She still lacked the usual color her skin held, and when she blinked her eyes open, she looked just as exhausted as before. But Elizabeth smiled at her son, and checked the time, and laughed as she said, “You played for _so long_! Don’t your eyes hurt?”

“A little, but I’m okay,” Hux shrugged. “Can we make brownies now?”

It was closer to dinner time than snack time, but Elizabeth would make any exceptions she could for her son while Brendol was away. “Sure,” she nodded, slowly sitting up on the sofa.

Putting on her best brave face, Elizabeth sat up and followed Hux up the stairs, her movements slower than his as she started to wake up. The first thing she did when they got to the kitchen was put on some tea for herself; her son didn’t like it yet, though he did appear to be taking a liking to the blended coffee drinks she’d sometimes buy him when they went to Barnes and Noble.

Excitedly, Hux began to pull ingredients from the cupboard as his mom finished making her tea. By this point, he did most of the work himself, and she just guided him along and made sure he didn’t forget an ingredient or a step.

As he started to pour stuff into the bowl, the kitchenaid mixer whisking away, Hux chattered on and on to her about his game on The Sims, and how it was so much easier to play once he used the _motherlode_ cheat Phasma sent him. “But you have to spell ‘load’ wrong to get it to work. I got so mad at her because she didn’t tell me that at first. I had to call her back,” Hux explained. “It’s L-O-D-E. Aren’t computer programmers supposed to be smart? Why wouldn’t the people who made the game spell it right?”

Elizabeth smiled, leaning against the counter as she held the steaming mug of tea to her lips. “Probably to make you work for it,” she said with amusement. “If you’re going to cheat, they can’t make it _too_ easy.”

“Well… I hope they change it when the sequel comes out,” Hux said.

“There’s a sequel?” 

Hux shrugged, not even looking away from the bowl as he cracked an egg into it with practiced ease. “I don’t know. It’s a good game. They’d be stupid if they didn’t make one,” he said simply.

His mother laughed, bright and beautiful, and he felt pleased with himself for putting that smile back on her face. She’d looked so sick earlier — and she didn’t usually take quite so many naps — so he was really relieved to see that she was back to her usual self.

Once the brownie batter was done and the baking pan greased, he began to pour it out. As he did, he nearly dropped the bowl, and as he did, he shouted, “Shit!”

As soon as he swore, he froze in place. He was eleven, and even though his mother let him get away with a lot — swearing was not one of those things.

“Armitage William Hux!”

He winced and didn’t turn around.

“Who taught you words like that?!”

Without missing a beat, Hux replied, “Phasma.”

When his mother snorted, Hux turned around to see her laughing, but trying to hold it back. As soon as he saw she was amused rather than angry, his expression broke out into a grin. “I’m not encouraging you,” she said. “If your father were to hear you swear…”

“I know,” Hux nodded insistently. He didn’t like to think about what his father would do or say if he knew Hux was using words like that. It wasn’t befitting of the sole beneficiary to The Empire Group. It was in its early days, but the company would make them _millions_.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Elizabeth said, her tone full of warning. “Use those words all you want with your friends, but if you get in trouble, I will not defend you. Deal?”

“Deal,” Hux nodded.

She set her mug of tea down to help hold the bowl so Hux could scrape out the batter into the pan. He left a significant amount along the edges of the bowl; each time they made brownies he left a little bit more behind. After all, he was a growing boy and was always hungry. And if he was going through the effort to make brownies, he wanted to be able to lick the bowl.

Elizabeth pretended not to see how much batter was left as she set the bowl back on the counter. She patted his unruly red hair down and planted a kiss on his forehead. He was only a couple of inches away from being the same height as her; she wasn’t prepared for the day her little boy surpassed her in height. “You remember what to do next?” she asked.

“Bake for thirty-six minutes,” Hux said, nodding dutifully.

“And then _let cool_ ,” Elizabeth said firmly, knowing full well her son would not obey that rule.

Hux noticed that she picked up her mug and made to leave the room. “Where are you going?” he asked. Usually they sat in the kitchen and did _something_ while they waited. Usually it was a board game or planning their dinner.

“I just need to make a phone call,” she said. “I promise, I won’t be long.”

He waited until his mother left the room to deflate a little, watching her leave. Something had changed with her — but he couldn’t figure out what it was, and it bothered him immensely. Why wouldn’t she tell him? His birthday was _months_ away, so it couldn’t be a surprise for that.

Hux knew he needed to be responsible and not burn the brownies, though, so he set the timer and sat down at the kitchen island. He messily shuffled a deck of cards and began to play solitaire. His mother returned with twelve minutes left on the timer, and when she did, they played a bit of Go Fish. It was a game that Hux adamantly insisted he was too old for, but always enjoyed playing with his mother, in the end. It was so easy with just two people.

As soon as the brownies were done, Hux rushed to the oven. The mitts were a bold blue and looked silly and too large on his hands, but he very proudly pulled out the pan of brownies and showed them to his mom. “They look delicious,” she smiled.

Hux looked at the pan with a smug smile. He was _so good_ at baking. “I wish dad would let me be a chef one day,” Hux said as he set the pan on the stovetop. 

Carefully, he turned the dial on the oven to turn it off, and then set the oven mitts on the counter. When he turned around, Hux saw that his mother’s smile had faded. “I just mean… I don’t know if I want to be a businessman like he is,” Hux explained. “I know the company is his favorite thing in the world and he’s so proud to give it to me, but it sounds so _boring_.”

Sadly, Elizabeth reached out for her son. He walked around the counter and up to her. She draped her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder, half-hugging him. “I know, darling. But you have a lot of growing up to do between now and then,” she said sadly. “Maybe one day you’ll love it.”

“I won’t.”

She sat up and rubbed his back, looking into her son’s stubborn green eyes. “Well, maybe you should try, and if you don’t like it, sell it when he’s retired and can’t do anything about it,” she said, framing it in a way that she knew would give her son satisfaction.

“I never _ever_ want to be a businessman though,” Hux whined. 

“Alright, Billy. I know,” she nodded, unwilling to argue with him anymore. “Everything will work out in the end, I promise.”

Hux looked at her curiously. “How do you know?”

Elizabeth smiled, bright and confident. “Because you’re a brilliant boy with a big heart,” she told him. “And don’t you ever, ever forget that, alright?”

He tipped his head to the side. Why was she talking like this? She wasn’t usually so sentimental. It was baffling for him.

“Alright,” he agreed; he knew it was what his mother wanted to hear, and he didn’t like arguing with her, either.

The silence that followed was like a massive void; usually things weren’t weird between them, but Elizabeth could tell that her son was starting to notice that something was off. After a beat, she smiled and said, “Grab some forks. Let’s have a snack.”

Any doubts her son had seemed to disappear as his whole expression lit up. “Really?” he asked.

She nodded and helped him put the brownies on the counter, a hot-pad beneath the pan. Eagerly, he handed his mother a fork and together they dug into the steaming hot pan of brownies. He hissed when he burnt his tongue a little, and Elizabeth laughed. “Patience,” she warned, taking the time to blow on the piece of brownie on her fork before eating it.

Reluctantly, Hux slowed down, following his mother’s lead of blowing on the brownie before taking a bite. He looked much happier now, the earlier sentimentality pushed from his mind in favor of food. Elizabeth smiled; her son was so easy to read sometimes.

As his chewing slowed, Elizabeth turned to watch her son instead of eating with him; she couldn’t handle much food, anyway. He looked so happy, so carefree. Her heart ached to think of this light in him disappearing, what Brendol might do to him as Armitage grew older. She knew her husband could be an awful man sometimes. He never used to be, but he’d changed. Work turned him into a man she resented, a man she didn’t want around her son. But she didn’t have that kind of power; she was sick, and he would take care of her. He’d help her live longer… for their son.

“Hey mom?” Hux said, setting his fork down on the counter.

“Yes?”

Hux tipped his head to the side and smiled. “You’re the best, you know that?”

She smiled brightly at the compliment. “So you’ve said,” she responded. “Are you happy?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

He stood from the counter stool and helped himself to a glass from the cupboard. As he filled it with milk, Elizabeth watched him wistfully. “I love you, Billy,” she said softly.

Hux chugged his glass of milk, but kept his eye on his mom, offering a thumbs up as he finished his drink. He let out a content _ahh_ as he set down the glass, and then smiled at her.

“I know.” He grinned at her. “I love you too, mom.”

——

_“I was wondering if you might want to join me. It’s . . .” Hux hesitated. He was nervous. He never got nervous, but now with Poe . . . things were different. “My mother. She passed fourteen years ago, that day. It’s horribly sentimental, but every year I bring new flowers for her.” Hux summoned all the courage he had so that he could look up into Poe’s eyes. “I’d like you to come with me. If . . . you want.”_

——

**Part II: October 2019**

Usually, visiting his mother’s grave was a calm, peaceful moment for Hux. He always felt comforted, being near her, even if in all practicality he knew that she was decomposing and for all intents and purposes, _gone_. But this was the one bit of believing he’d held onto from his childhood. He clung to the idea that she was there, seeing him succeed, watching him grow up. He needed that, for as silly and childlike as it may sound.

But when he woke that morning, Hux’s stomach was full of knots and he felt uneasy - dizzy, almost - with the realization that he was about to share this very private portion of his life with Poe Dameron. In fact, it was very likely that he would get a little teary-eyed in front of him, and that was a whole new level of trust and vulnerability that frightened Hux immensely.

And yet he couldn’t imagine a better, more trustworthy person to share that with.

Behind all the jokes and the carefree facade, Poe was a warm-hearted, genuine man. He could read people so well, and he was one of the few who didn’t let Hux’s prickly demeanor push him away. He’d dived headfirst into the thorns to pluck out the best parts of Hux because he’d believed that good was in there somewhere. Behind the scorn, sarcasm, and haughty attitude was a man just like anyone else, who’d suffered, who’d made poor decisions, and Poe for some reason had wanted to know _that man_.

Poe tried very hard that morning to be calm and kind - he didn’t take it personally when Hux couldn’t eat the scrambled eggs and toast Poe had made for him. He didn’t get angry when Hux wanted coffee stronger than the pot that he’d brewed for him. He didn’t snap back when Hux told him to go upstairs and put on a better blazer, because one with elbow pads was certainly _not appropriate_ for meeting his mother.

That outburst, though - it weighed on Hux the entire time Poe was upstairs, which took far longer than the task necessitated. When Poe returned, he looked nervous, but he wore a blazer from Hux’s own collection and it fit him like a glove. Were it any other situation, Hux probably would have jumped his bones in the most acceptable, proper way, but today was serious, and it needed to go well. 

“I’m sorry.”

Apologizing wasn’t easy for Hux, and he didn’t do it often, but he didn’t want things to go wrong. Not on a day so important as this. Poe slowly crossed the kitchen to Hux, who had just finished putting all the dishes in the dishwasher. “I know,” Poe nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have -”

“It was the nicest one you had, wasn’t it?” Hux interrupted. Poe hesitated, but the look in Hux’s eyes told him to just be honest. So, he nodded. “I forget, sometimes. That not everyone has the things I have. And today… I’m just…”

“Hey, it’s alright. I know.” Poe rested his hands on Hux’s biceps. 

He rubbed little circles into Hux’s arms with his thumbs, trying to find some way to provide comfort or kindness. The two of them had been through many things together in the near year since they’d officially begun spending time together, but this was new. Vulnerable, worried, emotional Hux was something Poe hadn’t seen. He still had to learn how to best help him. 

“You should keep that one,” Hux said, eyes raking down Poe’s torso. “It suits you.”

Poe smiled. His eyes were so warm and full of understanding as he gazed up at Hux, and in that moment of vulnerability, Hux pressed his lips to Poe’s without hesitation. This man - he was something else. 

“Now - let’s go get some flowers, alright? We’ll take our time. We have all day,” Poe said softly as he broke away from the kiss.

Hux pressed his forehead to Poe’s and just stood there for a moment, fingers drifting over Poe’s elbows before settling at his waist. They stood there for some time before Hux leaned away, separating himself from Poe and the situation. It wouldn’t do to get emotional before it was necessary. They weren’t even in the cemetery yet.

The trip to the florist was uneventful; Hux had ordered the bouquet weeks ago, in anticipation. He was surprised, however, by the fact that Poe chose to buy flowers as well. He picked out a bouquet of white and pink carnations, and Hux lost all ability to speak as he watched Poe lay down a significant amount of money for all of them.

“Do you know what those mean?” Hux asked as they walked to his SUV, bouquets in hand.

“Yep,” Poe nodded. “The white ones are remembrance, and the pink ones mean gratitude. Or at least, that’s what the internet says.”

Hux glanced at Poe. “Well. If the internet says it…”

“Is this okay?”

Hux stopped in his tracks, the two of them stood at the sidewalk just in front of the SUV. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at Poe, who had completely sidetracked the conversation. “What?”

“I asked if this was okay. That I got her flowers, too. I wanted to do something special,” Poe explained. “I know we don’t talk about her much and that’s okay, I’m not going to pressure you or anything, but… I get the vibe that she was really important to you. Really good to you. So I wanted to get her something special.”

It took Hux a moment to swallow past the lump in his throat.

He nodded, stating simply, “Yes. It’s okay.”

Then, in an effort to prevent emotion from showing once more, Hux put the bouquet safely in the backseat and climbed up behind the wheel of his SUV. He was ready to do this. Poe… deserved this meeting. He’d earned it, though Hux had never made it a test in so many words. 

Hux pulled the car into the cemetery, stopping when the driving path ended. The place was filled with gravestones in varying states of decay, and Poe wouldn’t know how to navigate this place even if he wanted to. He stood, bouquet in hand, waiting for Hux to show him where to go. Hux carried his own bouquet of multicolored tulips, and as he walked around the car towards Poe, he extended a hand.

Holding hands. That would be new, too.

Poe took it without hesitation, hoping to provide as much comfort for Hux as the taller man would allow. This was all brand new territory, for both of them. Neither knew quite how to handle it, but they were both making more of an effort than they usually did, which was massive.

Hux had the route memorized, though he walked slowly, almost reverently across the green. The leaves swirled around their feet and it was a bit chilly that day; Poe wondered if this was what it was like the day they buried her, if even the scenery brought back memories. He didn’t ask; it’d almost be more painful to get that answer than to not.

Finally, they stood in front of a tall marble gravestone. It was fully surrounded in the cemetery, no open plot next to it for Hux’s father. He hadn’t cared for his wife enough to invest in one when she’d passed, Poe assumed. The thought made his chest ache.

Hux gripped Poe’s hand almost painfully tight as they gazed at her name, at the informality. There was no loving message etched into the stone, no sweet notes about being a mother, a wife, a daughter. Poe wondered if Hux had wanted a message engraved, but his father hadn’t agreed. If Hux had had to go through a slew of rejections on top of the loss of his mother. He had so many questions and things he wanted to know, but no courage to ask.

“Mom.”

Very slowly, Hux crouched down so he could lay the tulips by her headstone. As he stood, his fingers drifted over the cool marble, and then he stepped back. He tried his very hardest to school his expression, to hide the emotion that always threatened to emerge, that he suppressed most days of the year.

“Mrs. Hux,” Poe said, feeling a bit awkward as he knelt down and offered the flowers he’d brought, as well. “I ah… your son is pretty amazing.”

Hux wanted to scoff, wanted to remind Poe that she was _dead_. She couldn’t _hear him_. But yet the gesture was also more than anyone else had ever done, and… it meant more to him than he could really put to words.

“I’m really glad you taught him how to cook, and that like, you loved him so much,” Poe said. That time, Hux let out a choked laugh. Everything about the statement was so very Poe, and it felt absolutely ridiculous. “His dad’s a piece of work but I’m glad you put up with the guy, so I could get your son.”

“You didn’t _get_ me. I _tolerate_ you,” Hux argued.

Poe chuckled. “See?” He squeezed Hux’s hand. “Perfect match.”

A wind swept through the cemetery, ruffling the flower petals and sending leaves soaring over their shoes and across the dying grass. Gently, Poe rested his head on Hux’s shoulder.

“I know I say it every year, but I miss you, mom.”

Poe turned his head and kissed Hux’s shoulder. “You’re always allowed to miss her.” It pained Poe, to think that Hux felt he wasn’t allowed to miss her even so many years later. “Always, Hux. Okay? No matter what your dad says.”

Hux blinked a few times in quick succession. Poe gave his hand another squeeze and turned his head back to the gravestone. “He may act all big and tough, but he’s a big softy. You made a good one, Mrs. Hux,” Poe continued. “And he likes to pretend he doesn’t, but I think he likes having me around.”

Silence settled over them for a moment. Poe heard Hux sniffle, and he wanted desperately to look up, to make eye contact, but Hux needed this moment to himself. 

Very, very softly, Hux confessed, “I do.”

He rested his head atop Poe’s, who still leaned on Hux’s shoulder. They stood like that for quite some time, Hux just looking at his mother’s gravestone, wondering what she’d think of Poe. He decided that Poe and his mother would have gotten along wonderfully. He would have made her laugh.

He doesn’t remember being so affected during past visits, but then again, he’d never shown anyone where his mother was buried. Hux wasn’t even entirely sure Phasma could find the gravestone, it had been so long. No, this was a very big deal, Hux choosing to bring Poe with him this time. And it had been frightening and left him feeling sick in the days leading up to it, but now that Poe stood by his side, Hux found that he hadn’t felt so at peace in a long time.

Not since his mother was still alive.

Hux blinked a few more times, only realizing now that fat, warm tears had begun to cascade down his cheeks. He hadn’t cried at his mother’s grave since he was a _teenager_. It all felt very stupid and immature.

But yet when Poe stood up and looked over, Hux didn’t turn his head or try to cower. He kept his eyes focused on his mother’s grave and just allowed himself to be vulnerable, regardless of how sick it made him feel. Because this was a side of him that Poe should know. That somewhere inside of him, Hux _wanted_ Poe to know.

Poe looped an arm around Hux’s waist and pulled him into an embrace, head tucking beneath Hux’s chin. His arms held Hux around his torso, clutching tightly, just enough to convey comfort without being stifling. Poe felt relieved when Hux didn’t brush it off or push him away, but rather chose to drape his arms around him in return.

They stood there, embracing, Hux lost in his own head for an indeterminable amount of time. Together they stood until there was a chill in their bones and Hux’s cheeks had dried. His eyes were still red-rimmed, but he’d reigned it in a little. “C’mon,” Poe whispered when he felt Hux begin to shiver in his arms. “Let’s go to my place. Let me cook you something mediocre.”

Hux snorted.

Poe chanced a look into Hux’s eyes, and though he could see the raw emotion, the vulnerability, he was proud of Hux for not shying away from it. There were no words exchanged, but Poe could tell, he could _feel in his bones_ that this meant a great deal to Hux.

After a short kiss, Poe slid his hand into Hux’s again and walked by his side the whole way back to the car. They didn’t speak - they didn’t _need_ to - and Hux felt much, much better.

——

_Poe leaned away, pressing his forehead to Hux’s. “You know I’m never gonna want you to forget her, right? I want to know about your mom. What you two had,” he said._

_Hux nodded. For as much as he wanted to be irritated by the softness with which they spoke, he found he really appreciated Poe reaffirming what he was doing, the place he wanted to make for himself in Hux’s life. And with that, the spaces he respected and didn’t want to take over._

——

**Part III: May 2021**

“Poe?”

Hux walked through the Supremacy, stocking footed, his voice echoing through the empty rooms. They were almost entirely moved into their new home now, with very few relics remaining to remind Hux of his father. They’d sold or donated most of the furniture, and the renovations meant Hux hardly recognized the Supremacy.

And now, of all the times to do so, Hux had lost his boyfriend somewhere in the house.

“Poe?” Hux called out again.

This time, he heard a muffled shout in response — the sound came from his childhood bedroom, if he had to wager a guess. Hux walked into the room, glancing around the doorframe. He could see Poe’s gross, grubby socks peeking out of the closet door.

“What are you doing in the —?”

But before he could finish his sentence, Hux had walked further into the room and discovered exactly what Poe was doing in the closet. He was surrounded by a bunch of boxes that Hux had completely forgotten about.

Boxes full of his past.

“Get out of there.”

Poe looked up sharply at the sound of Hux’s voice. He hadn’t heard him so angry in quite some time. “Babe —”

“That’s private. You have _no_ right —”

“But I’m your —”

“I don’t _care_.”

Sensing that this wasn’t a topic to push, Poe put down the photos he held in his hands and slowly stood up. He kept a wide berth as he walked out of the closet, hands up as though he were under arrest. Given Hux’s anger, perhaps he was.

“I’m sorry,” Poe said, keeping his voice as calm and smooth as he could. “I didn’t know what they were, and then I was looking, and…”

“Don’t.”

Hux looked physically pained as he took in the sight of all the photos spread across the floor. His entire past, the very thing he’d kept closed off from _everyone_ , even Phasma, even Deaglan. _Nobody_ knew that part of him anymore. Everyone who saw or took those photos was now dead, aside from Hux himself.

And now there was Poe.

Vaguely, Hux registered that Poe was talking to him, but all the anger was replaced with an immense, almost unbearable sadness as Hux stepped into the space where Poe had been sitting and lowered himself to his knees.

He’d planned on showing all of this to Poe eventually. Probably. But he’d wanted to do it on his own terms, when he felt like he’d be strong enough to do it without falling apart or breaking, like he felt he was doing now. It was too much. 

He forgot how to breathe when he saw his mother’s smile in one of the photos. It had been far, far too long since he’d seen her smile.

“Hux, babe, talk to me. Let me know you’re okay.”

Though delayed, Hux looked up. His eyes were distant, distracted. He glanced at Poe for just a moment and nodded before looking back down at the photos strewn about.

Poe hadn’t seen Hux quite so subdued before, and it was hard for him not to get too concerned. He just took in the sight of his husband, staring down at these glimpses into his past as though he’d seen a ghost.

Really, he had. 

He had no living relatives, not really. Hux’s half-brother didn’t count; he didn’t _want_ him to count. No, anyone who meant anything to Hux had died, aside from the friend group he’d allowed himself to be folded into after that stupid porno.

Poe noticed the way Hux’s hand trembled as he lifted a photo to get a better look at it. It was the same one Poe had been admiring when he’d been caught red-handed. In it, Hux had been maybe two or three years old, his fiery red hair a mess atop his head, food smeared on his cheek, his little chubby body propped up on his lithe mother’s hip. They stood in the kitchen — _of course_ they did, Poe had thought — smiling at whomever the photographer was. Poe wondered if Hux’s dad had taken the photo, or if things had been bad even then.

Hesitantly, Poe knelt down next to the closet. He didn’t dare touch Hux, not yet, but he felt safe getting closer to him and speaking to him again. “I’m so sorry, Hux. What can I do?”

Poe swallowed past a lump in his throat. Hux had been so angry, but now… he was something else. Nostalgic. Sad. It was as though Poe had dug up graves that never should have been touched, and now there was no going back.

Another stack of photos caught Hux’s eye, and he didn’t speak as he reached over to retrieve it. Again, his hands shook as he looked through the photos, one after another, until he came to pause at one of them.

“This is the only family picture I have where all of us are smiling.”

Poe hadn’t found that one, and wasn’t sure if he was allowed to see it now. But then Hux’s hand extended towards him, wrist turning to show Poe what was in the photo.

Christmas. The stark white living room of a house that wasn’t the Supremacy, decorated in golds and silvers and reds and greens. A massive Christmas tree in the background, gifts piled high underneath it and around it. Brendol — younger, thinner, far less grey — seated on a sofa next to Hux’s mother. She beamed so brightly, eyes sparkling, her curly red hair falling beautifully over her shoulders. And there, on her lap, sat Hux. He was barely older than he’d been in the last photo, only this time there was no food on his face, and his hair was combed neatly to the side. They all wore their Christmas best, and they all beamed at the camera. Even Brendol.

It was haunting, seeing what had been — wondering if Brendol’s smile had been as genuine as Hux’s and his mother’s. It looked like it was, and somehow that was an even more painful realization than the thought that he might have been faking it. That at one point, Brendol had been happy with his family. That he hadn’t been a monster.

Poe gently took the photo from Hux and took a deep breath. “You were a cute kid,” Poe said softly. “And your mom… she’s beautiful.”

“She was,” Hux agreed.

His voice was breathy, barely there. Poe looked up at Hux and tipped his head to the side. “I mean it, babe. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone through these. I… I didn’t know what they were, and…”

“It’s alright.”

Hux didn’t look up, though, and his voice still sounded so soft and weak. Poe knew there was more he should probably do to make it up to him, but couldn’t figure out what. 

As Hux went back to rifling through the photos, Poe settled in on the floor, crossing his legs. He didn’t touch any of the photos, wasn’t sure he was allowed. There were so many — more than he’d expected to find, given how private and reserved the entire Hux family had seemed to be.

“This was the day I lost my first tooth.”

He held out another picture, this time it was him with a big grin, the front bottom tooth missing from his bright smile. Hux’s eyes were squished shut, and he wore the same clothes all the other kids had, those summers in the 90’s that Poe remembered vaguely. Striped shirt, messy hair in wisps across the forehead, a few scrapes and dirt smudges on his arms. Completely opposite the refined, stuffy person Poe had thought Hux to be in high school.

“You were really different back then, weren’t you?” Poe asked.

Hux sighed. “My father was indifferent for most of my childhood,” he explained, setting the photo down. “He traveled a lot for work, even then. When I was too young to be useful, he’d just leave me at home with my mother… sometimes a babysitter, but they stopped going on dates a little after I was born, I guess.”

“Yeah… what happened between your parents?” Poe wondered. Then, worrying that he’d misstepped, he added, “If you want to tell. You don’t have to tell.”

“We’re already here,” Hux said, “I might as well explain.” He glanced over at Poe. “I think things went sour when I got to middle school. That was about when my father started to pay a little mind to me, and tried to mold me into someone who could follow in his footsteps.” He paused. “I was going to tell you all of this, eventually. It’s just…” he looked down at another photo in his hands. “It’s not easy.”

Poe nodded in understanding, drifting a hand gently down Hux’s back. “I understand.”

“They’re all dead.”

“I know, babe. I’m so sorry.”

“These are my grandparents,” he said, handing another photo to Poe. “You can tell which are my mother’s and which are my father’s.”

Poe most certainly could, that was for sure. 

In the photo, Hux was a very small baby, nothing but soft wisps of red hair peeking out of his white blankets. Given the background, Poe would guess that it was Hux’s baptism. The big gaudy Catholic church — the massive one on the corner in Philly — was unmistakable. Hux’s mother beamed that same beautiful smile from the other photos as she cradled her newborn in her arms. Brendol stood tall and proud at her left side. Behind him stood his parents — a short, stout, grumpy-looking woman with curly grey hair and an equally chubby but much more burly old man who wore Brendol’s sneer — the only expression Poe had ever seen on the man. 

Meanwhile, next to Hux’s mother stood the warmest, kindest looking people Poe had probably ever seen. Both of her parents were tall, and were smiling warmly at the camera. His mother looked the spitting image of her own mother. 

“I’m named after him,” Hux said, pointing to his father’s dad — the grumpy, disagreeable looking one. “Armitage. But I have _his_ name as my middle name,” he pointed to his mother’s dad. “That’s William McCormick. Billy. That’s what my mother used to call me, because I liked his name better.”

“What are their names?” asked Poe as he pointed to the women in the picture.

“My dad’s mom was named Caroline, and my mom’s mom was named Mary.” He paused. “And my mother’s name was Elizabeth.”

“You get your looks from her,” Poe said softly. “The hair, the eyes… the smile, when you use it.”

“And yet I can glare just as well as my father and grandfather,” Hux replied. “It’s funny how genetics work.”

Poe glanced over at Hux. He sounded like himself again, but his words dripped with an immeasurable sadness that Poe had never heard from Hux before. Not even when they went to his mother’s grave, or worked through the loss of his father. This was something else… something Poe would probably never fully understand.

“Your mom’s parents look really nice. Were they?” Poe wondered.

Hux nodded. He settled in, crossing his legs and getting comfortable in the closet, right there in the middle of the floor. If he’d been focused on his surroundings, on what was happening, he might have protested, but he didn’t. Actions and words and memories were beginning to burst from him without Hux thinking about them, and it was strange. He hadn’t let go and just acted on instinct in quite a long time, especially not about anything so personal.

“They were wonderful,” Hux said. “They passed when I was nine. My grandfather went first, but my grandmother only lived a few weeks longer.” He frowned, taking the photo back to really look at them again. “My mother said she died of a broken heart.” He scoffed. “That’s not even possible.”

Poe frowned. “Maybe not,” he conceded, “but I bet it made you feel a little better when you were a kid, didn’t it?”

Hux nodded; he couldn’t deny that point. His mother had been good at that — soothing the ache Hux had felt after he’d lost his grandparents.

“I was so close to them,” he said. “On the rare occasions when my mother and father went out on dates, or when to events together, I’d stay with them. My dad’s parents didn’t want me around, but honestly, what would you expect out of the people who made my father?” Hux sighed; the anger ebbed from his face as the memories of his mother’s parents flooded back to him. “They were your stereotypical grandparents, I suppose.”

“Tell me about them,” Poe prompted, hoping it was the right thing to say.

Hux was quiet, and after a brief pause he shrugged. “I have so many memories, but none are all that… significant?” He wasn’t even sure that was the right word. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “They were from Ireland, moved here when they were teenagers. They’d met over in Enniscorthy — it’s a small town. But then he moved here to work, and then my grandmother a few months later… but it wasn’t planned. They met at this dance hall where all the Irish people living in New York would get together in Brooklyn.” The smallest of smiles appeared upon his lips. “My grandfather said that he saw her across the room and instantly knew he was going to marry her. I used to think that sort of feeling was ridiculous. Did he really expect me to believe it was possible to look at someone and just _know_?”

“Like, love at first sight?” Poe asked patiently.

“I guess. They’d known each other for quite some time, though,” Hux tried to clarify. “But… he said that he looked at her in this new place, at this new point in his life, and something had just been different. And because something was different, everything fell into place.”

Poe smiled and mused, “Kinda like you and me. We crossed paths a few times in high school, and we hated each other. Pretty sure you still hated me when we started that porno, too.” Hux glanced over at Poe, eyebrow raised. “But then we talked a little bit after you and Phasma did your scene, and then there was that party… and yeah, maybe it wasn’t as immediate as it was for your grandpa, but maybe he was right. Timing is everything.”

Hux laughed and looked down at the picture. He shook his head. “I can’t believe it. That’s… too coincidental.”

“Your grandpa sounds like a smart man,” Poe said with amusement.

Another moment of silence passed as he looked down at the picture. “Yes,” Hux agreed. “He was. My grandmother was brilliant, too. She was the one who taught my mother how to bake. We all baked together, when I was younger.”

“That’s really cute,” Poe said with a fond smile. He scooted a little closer to Hux and tucked his chin over his shoulder.

“You may not believe it, given what you’ve seen of my family, but… my mother’s side was quite loving,” Hux confessed softly. “Everything was wonderful until my mom was diagnosed. That was about when my father started telling me how to act and think, to try to prime me to take over the company…”

“The company that made us filthy rich _and_ you don’t have to worry about anymore,” Poe interjected, grinning widely.

It had taken a lot of hard work, but Hux had found a way to squirm his way out of running The Empire Group, which his father had left to him in his will with a _lot_ of red tape should he want to sell the company. 

“Yes, that one,” Hux replied, his own smile growing once again. “Nobody has ever said as much, but between you and me, I think they would have divorced if she hadn’t been sick, because of that. And she probably would have taken me with her, and I would have been a very different person.”

The room was quiet; Poe didn’t know what to say to that. It was interesting to think about, what Hux would have been like if his mother had lived, had been the one to raise him. Would they even work together as a couple? Part of Hux’s appeal was how opposite he was to Poe, the way he made him work for it. Hux wouldn’t have become the man Poe fell in love with if he hadn’t been under his father’s influence. The thought made Poe’s gut twist uncomfortable.

“No use thinking in _could have beens_ ,” he said, looking up and over to press a kiss to Hux’s cheek. He’d grown out his scruff, and Poe loved the way it felt against his lips. “Besides, I like you exactly as you are.”

“You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.”

Poe laughed, bright and melodic, and shook his head. “Nah. I only say stuff I mean.”

Hux looked puzzled. “Are you sure about that? I’m fairly certain you say whatever comes to mind, whether you mean it or not. In fact, I’d confidently bet upon you having absolutely no brain to mouth filter.”

“Hey!” Poe protested. “I think before I speak.” When Hux fixed Poe with an unamused stare-down, Poe conceded, “Okay, so I don’t _always_ think before I speak…” Realizing there was no way to win this battle, Poe sighed. “Alright, fine, you’re right. Can we get back to the photos now?”

Nodding, Hux turned back to look at the array of things around him. Poe really had made a mess of it — but Hux could see the order in the mess. The piles Poe had kept things in, so they’d all fit back into the box when he was done. 

One of the photos caught Poe’s eye, and he gently reached out for it.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“My mother,” responded Hux with a coy smile.

Her telltale red hair was hidden, tied back tightly at the crown of her head, shrouded in shadows as she stood in the center of a stage. It was a wide shot, an old promo photo for the ballet company she’d danced for. She stood by herself under a lone spotlight, her outfit a bright, pristine white, the photo capturing Elizabeth as she did a perfect arabesque en pointe.

“She danced with the Philadelphia Ballet for many years. When she was younger, she performed several seasons with the New York City Ballet, too,” Hux explained. “She was one of the few who made dancing a successful career.”

“Why’d she stop?” Poe wondered.

Looking back at the other photos, he could see her dancer’s physique, her lithe body and the grace with which she held herself. She was regal and dainty and commanding all at once.

“Me.”

Poe looked over at Hux, who had the hints of a smile on his face. “She told me all the time that she’d always known she’d be a ballerina until she had a baby, and then she’d be a mother. It was her dream, from childhood on,” Hux explained. “She made it come true.”

“Even if it _was_ with your dad,” Poe added.

The humor didn’t translate though, and Hux shook his head. “I think they were in love, at one point. She told me they were. From what I know of her… I don’t think she would have married for money,” Hux said. “I’ll never know, because I was just a kid, but… they used to look so happy.” He held out a few more photos — this time, they appeared to be ones of his parents before he’d been born. “I think things went sour when it came to me. They had very different opinions on parenting.”

Poe nodded. “Yeah… I don’t know it all, obviously, but… it sounds like that’s true.”

“I’m glad my father would leave if he got angry with her,” Hux said ruefully. “I know it hurt her, but when he was gone, it meant she and I got to smile and have fun and… do everything he’d never let us do.” Hux looked at a picture of him and his mom at the zoo — he looked to be around seven. “The time I spent with her, without him, were the best times I can remember. Those, and whenever I’d get to go to her parents’ house.”

Gently, Poe pressed a kiss to Hux’s temple. “She sounds like a really amazing woman.”

Hux nodded; he’d never be able to say it enough, to emphasize to Poe just how wonderful she’d been. It was unfair, someone so warm and kind being taken from the world far too soon. But Hux had spent many years trying to heal. Opening up about her wasn’t easy, but with Poe it was easier.

Once again, the photo of Hux and his parents at Christmastime resurfaced. “I can’t believe we had fifteen years and we’ve only got _one_ photo of all three of us smiling. _One_ stupid family picture with smiles,” Hux frowned, shaking the photo with frustration. “How pathetic.”

“Hey,” Poe said, reaching over to take the photo from him. He didn’t want Hux to ruin it and then regret it later. “Don’t think about that. Just… think about all these other things you have here. Didn’t you tell me you thought your dad would get rid of them?”

Hux nodded. He didn’t notice the way Poe surreptitiously set the photo aside, and instead dwelled upon Poe’s question. “My mother gave me most of these things behind his back. She was worried he’d throw them away. Like he had the authority to decide what I’d get to keep, even though he was never around.” 

“I’m glad you have these things,” Poe said. “She was looking out for future you.”

Nodding again, Hux agreed, “She did that a lot. She’d always tell me all these things about the future… she wanted to make the cake for my wedding, I told you that.”

When Hux paused, Poe prodded, “What else, babe?”

Frowning, Hux explained, “I don’t remember most of them.”

Poe’s calloused hand was warm and comforting as it covered Hux’s where he still held the stack of photos. He brushed soothing circles into his hand with his thumb, and then said, “You remember something.”

The pause trailed on forever, and Poe didn’t press any more. He rested his head on Hux’s shoulder and closed his eyes, doing his very best to impart as much comfort to his husband as he could — not just for the answer, but because he’d opened up a lot when he didn’t have to. That meant the world to Poe.

“When we found out that she… wouldn’t make it,” Hux spoke, and then cleared his throat to try to cover up the way his voice had cracked. “She asked me to name a child after her, if I could. That she’d always dreamed of grandkids, and she thought I’d be a great father.” Hux frowned. “And then she told me to make sure she wasn’t forgotten.”

Poe turned his head, pressing a kiss to Hux’s shoulder. That was heavy. It was a lot to contend with, and he wasn’t sure how it was weighing upon Hux. They’d decided not to have kids — they likely weren’t going to change their minds on that — and the fact that Hux was still adamant about not having children even when it was what his mother would have wanted was a testament to how strongly he felt about the matter. But the rest of it…

“You’re doing great at making sure she isn’t forgotten,” Poe said softly. “By telling me, and I’m sure you’ve told Rey a little, right?” Hux nodded. “We’re going to keep her traditions going, and one day… I know you say you won’t, but one day you’ll be an uncle to Rey and Ben’s kids, and when you are… you can pass along her memories to them, too. Teach them how to bake. Show them the kind of love she showed you. Even if you won’t show the rest of our friends. Because whether you do it through your own kids or someone else’s… you’re keeping her memory alive, and that’s what she wanted most. Right?”

Hux swallowed past a lump in his throat. He’d never thought about it in such a way, but Poe made a very good point. Hux nodded, unable to come up with words to say in response. 

He was going to be an uncle, and he was going to pass on traditions, and he was going to hope like hell those children liked him enough to save even one of them. It was terrifying, and yet somewhere deep down Hux was excited at the prospect. At knowing that once again, he’d do something that his mother would have been proud of.

Gently, Poe pressed his lips to Hux’s temple. “Thank you for letting me see these,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have gone digging but… thank you.”

Hux nodded. Words weren’t going to come to him anymore that night and he knew it; thankfully, Poe understood. 

Without speaking, the two of them gathered together the photos and very carefully put them back in the boxes. Together, they carried those boxes and everything else that remained on the second floor of the Supremacy down to Poe’s Subaru. They were almost done moving — these were the last bits and pieces, the last relics of a chapter in Hux’s life that he was about to say goodbye to: his father, The Empire Group, his days of solitude and disinterest.

A few days later, they closed on the Supremacy and it was gone forever. Poe and Hux had their new, custom-built home, and they had Millicent, and life was going to be good. Better. That’s what they’d wanted, after all.

One day, after a particularly tedious meeting with Ben regarding the finances of his bookstore, Hux came home to find rather heavenly scents greeting him. Confused, because he _knew_ Poe wasn’t a good cook, Hux wandered into the house.

“Poe?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Poe looked up from where he stood at the countertop range. “Hey babe.”

There was a big box on the counter, and random ingredients strewn about, and he looked incredibly pleased with himself. Not only that, but there was a gift on the corner of the counter, and Poe was wearing the blazer that Hux had given him a few years prior, the first time they’d gone to his mother’s grave together.

“What’s the occasion?” asked Hux, confused.

“I wanted to do a little something special for you, as a housewarming gift,” Poe explained. He stirred something on the stovetop and then leaned over to consult a sheet of paper with big pictures and few words. “Look, I’m even cooking!”

“Yes, I see,” Hux nodded. “Don’t burn anything.”

“I won’t,” grinned Poe. “I ordered this neat little box, see?” He pointed the spoon at the box on the counter. “They send you all the ingredients, perfectly measured out, and then they give you pictures and instructions and you just _do it._ Easy! Plus, they even tell you what wine goes well with it, so I’ve got that in the fridge. Isn’t it cool?”

Hux chuckled. “It’s like cooking for dummies over here.”

“Well, I _am_ a dummy,” Poe teased. “ _Your_ dummy.” He nodded his head, beckoning Hux over. “Now, come over here and give your dummy a kiss.”

Millicent wandered between Hux’s feet as he walked to Poe, not tripping over the cat once. Poe looked quite pleased with himself, and Hux was genuinely impressed with the efforts to which Poe had gone. He leaned in, granting Poe a nice, long kiss in return. “You didn’t have to do any of this,” Hux insisted. “I promise you, I’m not angry about the closet thing.”

“I know,” Poe nodded. “Can’t a guy do something special for his boyfriend?”

Through narrowed eyes, Hux scrutinized Poe. “I’m still suspicious.”

“Yeah, you probably will be all night, but that’s okay,” Poe laughed. “Can you set the table and pour some wine? I only have two steps left.”

Hux agreed, and in no time they were sitting down together for dinner.

And Poe had been right — the boxes were _great_. Everything tasted divine, and though Hux knew it was because Poe had been given the exact measurements of things so he couldn’t possibly screw that up, it was still impressive. _Nothing_ was burnt, which was entirely likely given Poe’s penchant for burning everything — including toast, which even children could make without incident, Hux was fairly certain.

“Now, before we clean up, I wanted to give you this,” Poe said, standing and sliding stocking-footed across the hardwood floor to retrieve the gift he’d wrapped.

He looked so proud of himself as he handed the gift bag to Hux. Whatever was inside, Hux was probably not prepared for it, which he knew as soon as he started to pull at the tissue paper. Impromptu gifts were a rarity with Poe, but in the few occasions where he’d received them, Hux was usually rendered speechless.

As it turned out, that evening would be no exception.

In his hands, Hux held a folding photo frame. It was trifold, and inside were three photos, each one making his heart twist a little more painfully as he looked at them.

The first photo, the one on his far left, was the only family photo he had of him and his parents smiling. Poe had kept it, and he’d framed it. Now, nothing could ever ruin it save for a natural disaster. On the far right was a photo that very few had seen: it was Poe and Hux at the Dameron’s home, sitting together on the sofa at Thanksgiving. The first family holiday Hux had celebrated in a long time — and he’d spent it with Poe’s family. Both men were smiling — Hux looked very nearly as happy as he did in the childhood photo in the same frame.

And then in the middle was the most gut-wrenching photo of all. It winded Hux — left him feeling dizzy with the implications.

It was a photo from almost a year ago — Ben and Rey’s wedding, back in September. Ben and Rey stood at the center, but with them was their wedding party. Rose, Poe, and Phasma standing by Rey’s side, and at Ben’s side stood Hux, Finn, and Nicholas, Ben’s friend from LARP and somehow also Phasma’s boyfriend. Hux still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around that, but that was neither here nor there. They all stood together, and they were all _smiling_.

“You have more than one happy family photo, see?” Poe said. He sounded eager and pleased with himself, but his voice had a gentle edge to it which kept Hux from getting too tense or freaked out.

Nothing Poe did was all that annoying anymore — at least not in the way it used to be. Now it was annoying because he was always so heartfelt and genuine. Hux didn’t like how often he could be rendered speechless.

But this — it didn’t stir any annoyance whatsoever. It dug up those sad, wistful emotions Hux had felt the other day when they’d gone through the photos, but now that dark cloud that had been hanging over him was letting a few beams of light through.

They may not be biological, but this group of friends that Hux had finally agreed to be a part of were his family. His _found_ family. He and Phasma had always been close, and obviously he loved Poe, but the rest… working with Ben gave Hux’s life meaning, gave him a satisfaction that his work with The Empire Group hadn’t. Rey was like a sister to him, and Rose? She was terrifying, and Hux could appreciate that. Anyone who could make Ben Solo quake in his boots was good in Hux’s book. Hell, even Finn’s endless optimism didn’t annoy Hux like it used to. Ever since he’d gotten drunk with Hux and Poe one night, before Finn and Poe had both moved out of their apartment and in with their significant others, and he’d heard Finn’s life story. Nicholas was still a mystery, but if he made Phasma happy, then he was fine.

And seeing the way his smile in the Thanksgiving photo with Poe looked almost the carbon copy of his smile in his photo with his parents shed a whole new light on what their relationship had done for him. All that happiness he’d never imagined being able to find again was there, in their home, in his life.

It wasn’t traditional, nor was it what he’d envisioned, but Hux had made himself a new family. One that made him feel welcomed and accepted, even when he knew he was a banged-up, broken version of who he’d once been. Poe had haphazardly pieced him together, and they all kept him together, and in return… Hux trusted them each with little parts of him. 

They were a family, and Hux didn’t have to be alone.

The realization stunned him, and when he finally looked back up at Poe, he wasn’t quite sure what to say or do. The gentle expression on Poe’s face revealed that Poe knew what his gift had done, and that Hux was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to say. 

“Shit, Hux…”

Poe knelt down in front of him, and Hux wasn’t really sure what had drawn such a reaction out of him. But then Poe’s hand was on his face, his thumb dabbing at the corner of Hux’s eye, and he was suddenly frantic and embarrassed at the realization that he was on the verge of tears. “ _Fuck_ ,” Hux muttered under his breath, looking down and blinking furiously to stop any tears from falling.

“Hey, it’s alright, babe. Don’t worry about it,” Poe insisted gently, keeping his hand cupped against Hux’s face. “It’s just us. I won’t tell.”

Hux looked down at the photographs in the frame on his lap, and he took a deep breath. He didn’t quite know what to say.

“It’s alright,” Poe insisted. “I just… I wanted you to have it. To see. To remind you, y’know? That like… we’re a family now. We always will be. All of us.” He tipped his head forward to try to catch Hux’s attention. When their eyes locked, Poe smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I know it’s hard, not having your mom or grandparents around, but now you’ve got us. You don’t have to be alone, alright?”

Hux nodded. He still hadn’t fully comprehended that fact — he liked to think he kept his walls up pretty well — but deep down he knew that his efforts were futile.

He had a family, and he was loved, and everything his mother had ever wished for him had come true, or would in the very near future. 

“I love you, babe,” Poe whispered, leaning up to press his lips to Hux’s.

Hux’s eyes blinked closed, his eyelashes damp, as he brought a hand up to cover Poe’s where he held his face so gently. Sighing into the kiss, he breathed out, “I love you, too,” the words getting lost somewhere against Poe’s mouth.

He felt Poe’s smile against his lips and Hux was overwhelmed with emotion. Whatever he’d done to deserve this, he’d never understand, but he wasn’t going to take it for granted. Everything his mother had dreamed of was coming true, and the comfort of that was all Hux needed to let go and enjoy the moment. Poe loved him. His friends cared about him. He had a home that was all his own, that he was proud of. A career he enjoyed. A cat who liked him more than she liked anyone else. People _loved_ him. And for once — Hux felt like he could finally accept it all, like he deserved it.

It was a breathtaking realization, but one that filled him with more comfort than Hux had known in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at armltagehux.


End file.
